


the downsides of dating widowmaker

by IceImagines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Being Walked In On, F/F, Happy Ending, LITERALLY, Moira is Moira, Secret Relationship, a tiny little smidge of smut, reaper has lost his last fuck to give, starts as pure crack then turns weirdly dark, tfw your girlfriend isnt supposed to have feelings feelsbadman, the tiniest bit, theyre really bad at hiding, widowmaker gets back into the closet, widowmaker loves her gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 09:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21072332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines
Summary: Keeping a relationship a secret is easy. Except when it isn't.





	the downsides of dating widowmaker

**Author's Note:**

> i'm posting this from a hotel room and my laptop is dying and i forgot my charger. pray for my soul
> 
> no major trigger warnings. hope u enjoy reading n maybe leave me ur thoughts

It had been about a month since Sombra and Widowmaker had started dating, and Sombra had learned a few things in that short time. 

The first was that there were a lot of upsides to dating Widowmaker. 

For one, as much as she didn‘t look the part, Widow absolutely loved to cuddle. Sombra could barely keep her hands off her long enough to get out of bed some days. Not that she objected. Widow was as bony as she was long, but she gave excellent hugs, and Sombra didn‘t care to admit how much she liked the way Widow combed through her hair with her fingers and pressed little kisses to the back of her neck when she held her. 

Furthermore, Widow‘s death stare was astonishingly effective against catcallers. It made going out that much more enjoyable, especially for a couple consisting of a blue woman and another with visible pink cybernetics grafted to her skull. 

One time, they‘d been to a show together and when Sombra had complained about being too short to see anything, Widow had simply picked her up and put her on her shoulders. For a moment, Sombra had been a little offended, then worried about the integrity of Widow‘s skeleton, but then she had realized that Widow barely felt her weight, and enjoyed her elevated position tremendously for the rest of the night. 

But there was a second thing she learned. And that was that there were also a few downsides to dating Widowmaker. Downsides that went a bit further than her incredibly cold feet which always jolted Sombra awake right as she was dozing off and the fact that she couldn‘t eat anything spicier than a tortilla chip. 

Downsides like the fact that Widowmaker wasn‘t technically supposed to have feelings. And dating, well, somewhat went against those guidelines. 

Which meant nobody could know. And it wasn‘t that Sombra had a problem with keeping their relationship secret for now. It was more the fact that it was so outstandingly hard to keep secret. After all, they lived on a single base with most of the Council and hundreds of lower ranking troops. There wasn‘t much to go by here in terms of privacy. Sombra could hack a few security cameras, sure, but she wouldn‘t be the world‘s best spy if she thought that was all it took. 

So they were careful. Very careful. But there were definitely one or two times when they were almost caught. 

Or maybe more than one or two times. Maybe a lot of times. 

But really, was it any of their fault that Reyes always randomly walked into the room during the worst moments? 

They had just wanted to pay the kitchen a quick visit after a rough mission for some coffee and the last of the pop-tarts Sombra had bought last week. Sombra sat on the small wooden table, kicking her legs, while Widow worked the coffee machine, both of them still in their uniforms, though slightly dirtier and adorned with the occasional scrape or black eye. When Widow brought the two steaming cups over and set them down on the table, Sombra playfully hooked one leg around her waist to pull her in closer. Widow gave one of those adorable little squeaks she let out when something surprised her, then scowled and retaliated by leaning forward and bracing her arms on the table, forcing Sombra to lean back a little. 

„You are impossible“, she murmured as Sombra wrapped her arms around her neck and bumped their noses together, a wide smile on her pretty face. 

„That‘s why you like me.“ 

„Presumptuous.“

„Oh, I‘ll show you presumptuous-“ 

Then suddenly, both of them became aware of heavy footsteps nearing the kitchen. A particularly unmistakable type of heavy footsteps. 

For a split second, they stared at each other, wide-eyed, before Sombra did the first thing she could think of: She turned invisible, still sitting on the table with Widow leaning over her. And not a second too early, because just as the last of her silhouette flickered out, a very disgruntled Gabriel Reyes entered the room. When he noticed Widow in her odd position, he stopped and did a visible double take. 

„What the hell are you doing?“, he grated out in his usual raspy snarl as Widow feverishly tried to think of an explanation.

„I... um... felt lightheaded suddenly?“ 

„You. Lightheaded.“ He didn‘t sound like he believed her. 

„I don‘t have a heart, Gabriel“, she defended herself. „Literally. Or lungs.“ 

He tilted his head to the side. Sombra thought that his eyebrows were supposed to be raised in a mocking manner, but it was hard to tell with the way his skin kept disintegrating. 

„That sounds concerning“, he said, faking thoughtfulness, „do you think I should call Moira to check up on you?“

„No!“ Widow straightened up as Sombra loosened her grip around her neck. „I‘m fine.“ 

Gabriel‘s eyes wandered to the two untouched cups on coffee on the table. „Let me guess. Those are to help with your _lightheadedness?_“ 

Widow‘s patience snapped. „Can‘t I just want to drink two cups of coffee, Gabriel?“, she hissed. „Are you going to report me to Moira for that too?“

Sombra shook as she desperately tried to hold in her laughter. 

Gabriel held up his hands defensively. „Okay, okay. Fine, geez.“

„Nobody says that anymore“, Widow grumbled as she stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for him to get his own cup of coffee before scuffling back out of the room. When the door finally closed behind him, Sombra burst out laughing. She was shaking as she fizzled back into visibility, wiping a few stray tears away with the back of her hand. 

„Oh my god. That was so fucking funny.“ 

„I wouldn‘t call us almost being discovered funny. What if he had kept pestering me?“ 

Sombra rolled her eyes. „But he didn‘t, did he? Relax, Widow. It was just one time. I‘m sure it won‘t happen again.“ 

Of course, it did happen again. 

They were in Sombra‘s room. Widow had just come back from a five day mission. Five days during which Sombra had missed her terribly, and she was determined to show her just how much. 

Their clothes ended up all over the floor in a matter of minutes, hastily pulled off and tossed aside before they collapsed onto Sombra‘s unmade bed in a tangle of limbs. Their mouths crashed together in a frenzied, hungry kiss, hands clutching, nails digging, breaths coming in hot, shallow bursts.

„Missed you“, Sombra gasped out, back arching underneath Widow as her cold hands slid up Sombra‘s ribs. „Really bad.“ 

„Did you now?“, Widow teased, peppering kisses over Sombra‘s exposed throat. Sombra didn‘t respond, just grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her back up to her mouth. Her nails dug into Widow‘s scalp, and Widow‘s soft moan into the kiss broke off and turned into a startled gasp when Sombra suddenly pushed herself up and quickly rolled them over so she was on top. She broke the kiss, looking down at Widow with a wide grin on her face, brown and purple hair a tangled mess tickling Widow‘s cheek. 

„A little“, she offered, kissing along Widow‘s jawline and down her neck as she slowly slid down her body. Widow reached down and tangled her fingers in her hair, bottom lip trapped between her teeth and staring down at Sombra with awe in her golden eyes. Sombra didn‘t think she‘d ever seen something so beautiful in her life.

She was almost down past Widow‘s navel, still trailing kisses in her wake, both of them trembling with anticipation. 

A loud knock on the door sounded through the room and very abruptly and unceremoniously broke the spell. 

„Sombra,“, she heard Gabriel‘s unmistakable voice growling on the other side of the door. „Doomfist wants you to analyze the data from the last mission yourself. Says it‘s urgent.“ 

Sombra stared at Widow. Widow stared back, eyes wide with terror, both frozen in place. 

„Just pretend you‘re out“, Widow mouthed at Sombra almost soundlessly, but she was cut off.

„I know you‘re in there“, Gabriel rasped, „We may not be able to survey your room, but we do have cameras everywhere else in this building. And your motorcycle is still there. So quit playing dumb with me and open the damn door, don‘t make me override your code.“ 

_Like you could._ Sombra stopped herself from saying it out loud, but she knew he was right. In a matter of seconds, she decided on the only thing she could think of.

Getting off of Widow, she made a hasty gesture for the closet on the other side of the room. „In there“, she whispered, so quietly it was barely audible, before saying in a normal voice: 

„Yeah, I‘m here.“

„Open. The. Door.“ 

Widow hesitated for a moment, looked back and forth between Sombra and the closet. Then she got off the bed and snuck over, not making a sound. Sombra had to stop herself from admiring her ass as she went, instead leaning over the side of the bed, managing to grab a t-shirt she hadn‘t bothered to pick up yet and yanking it over her head before flopping back down and getting under the sheets. She opened a random array of holoscreens as Widow got into the closet and pulled the door shut behind her, a sour expression on her face, but Sombra made herself ignore it, instead doing her very best to look as bored as ever.

„_Sombra._..“ 

She waved a hand and unlocked the door with her own uncrackable access code. „Fine, fine...“ 

Gabriel stomped into the room as soon as the door slid to the side. He was still in his costume, mask and all. 

„Are you serious?“, he snarled as soon as he spotted her huddled into her blankets. „We‘re out there almost getting ourselves killed and you‘re _lying in bed in the middle of the day?_“ 

She gave him a very unimpressed look. „It‘s not my fault my job is better than yours. Also, it‘s nine pm. I thought I was the one of us that didn‘t have a solid sense of time anymore.“ She gestured towards her screens. „Besides, I am working.“

Her voice came out mostly steady, thankfully, but she still felt her heart pounding in her chest. The space beneath her blanket felt way too hot, and her mind was blank with the fear that he was going to notice something off.

„In that case you‘ll be happy to learn that there‘s even more work waiting for you. Now get up and come with me.“ 

Sombra felt herself break out into cold sweat. She hadn‘t even put on underwear. 

„Um... five more minutes?“

Somehow the emotionless mask managed to look disapproving. Or maybe exasperated. Maybe both. It was kind of hard to tell.

„Do I really have to explain to you that Doomfist dislikes waiting?“ 

Sombra rolled her eyes, trying to mask her increasing desperation. „Yeah, but that won‘t be your problem, will it?“ 

„I‘m your superior, all of your problems automatically become my-“ His sentence broke off and he turned his head slightly. „Sombra, are those Widowmaker‘s boots?“ 

Dread welling up inside her, Sombra pushed herself up on her elbows and craned her neck. Widow‘s boots were right next to the foot of the bed, one standing up, the other lying on its side. Unmistakably hers.

Trying not to let her panic show, Sombra feverishly tried to think of an explanation. „Yeah, I was, uh... borrowing them.“

„Borrowing.“ Gabriel didn‘t even try to make it sound like he believed her. Still she nodded, painfully aware that it was too late to go back now.

„Widowmaker wasn‘t on base until half an hour ago.“ 

„So? She has more than one pair.“ 

„You don‘t even have the same shoe size.“ 

„You don‘t know that.“ 

„I have eyes.“ 

„Not always.“ 

„_Sombra._“ 

She ducked her head. „Okay, okay. Sorry.“

There was a pause, as if he was expecting her to say something more. When she didn‘t, he made an impatient hand gesture. „So? What did you want to do with them?“ 

She was a little hurt that he expected her to have malevolent intentions with Widow‘s boots, even under the assumption that they didn‘t like each other, but she didn‘t let it show, instead inspecting her nails. „Nothing. Like I said. Borrowing them.“ 

Gabriel let out an exasperated growl. „Whatever it is you‘re trying to do, don‘t do it. Give the boots back.“ A sigh. „I can‘t believe I have to say these words to you.“ 

„Whatever.“ 

„Don‘t whatever me. Get off your ass and come with me already.“

„You go ahead. I‘ll be right there.“ 

He didn‘t move. Sombra let out a long sigh. „Gabe, please. I promise I‘ll be down in five minutes, okay?“

„Three.“ 

„Okay, three. Now get out of my room, I need to get dressed.“ 

When the door finally closed behind him, Sombra let herself flop back onto the mattress heavily. Her head was still swimming with leftover adrenaline. 

„I can‘t believe that just happened“, she said to the empty room. The closet door creaked and opened a little, and Widow tentatively poked her head out.

„Is he gone?“

Sombra nodded, eyes tightly shut. Widow stepped out of the closet and went to pick up her clothes, the rest of which had thankfully landed on the other side of the bed where Gabriel hadn‘t seen them. 

„That was close“, she muttered as she pulled up her panties. 

„Hey, what do you think you‘re doing?“ Sombra slid off the bed and wrapped her arms around Widow‘s waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. „I don‘t like to leave my business unfinished.“ 

She felt Widow shudder faintly, but the sniper shook her head. „You told him you would be there in three minutes.“ 

„I can work _very_ fast.“ 

Widow gave her a deadpan look over her shoulder. „Not that fast, _petite ombre._“ She turned around in Sombra‘s arms, cupped her face in her hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. „Besides, just thinking about all the _care_ you can put in your work _later_ has me all weak in the knees. And who knows,“ Sombra felt her grin as she pressed another kiss to her jawline, „by the time you come back, I might be half mad with longing...“ 

Sombra felt a shiver run down her spine. „Keep that up and I‘ll be going nowhere“, she murmured. Widow pulled away, still smirking.

„I‘d better get back to my room then. I would hate for you to miss out the chance to analyze boring mission data while Moira glares daggers at you.“ 

„I thought you wanted to encourage me to go“, Sombra grumbled. But she reluctantly pulled her clothes back on and started her way down to the lower levels of the base where the meeting rooms were situated, after hacking a few security cameras to make sure no one would see Widow leaving her room. Her thoughts were still spinning with how close they had been to having Gabe walk in on them. She didn‘t dare think about what might have happened if they hadn‘t reacted so quickly. 

They would just have to be even more careful in the future.

And they were. Really. Almost always. Pretty much always, in fact, for about three months. Then they had to infiltrate a black tie event and conduct an extremely high risk assassination and information extraction there, and when they got back to their five star hotel at around two in the morning, Sombra was tipsy, not to mention high on leftover adrenaline. 

Alcohol and almost getting shot multiple times in quick succession made for one hell of a drug. And they made people reckless. Even someone who normally prided herself on being careful as much as Sombra did. 

She and Widow had rooms on different ends of the hotel, and they had agreed before the mission to play it safe and not try to meet up until they were back home. But it was two am, Sombra was drunk, had just lived through a near death experience and a near death of her girlfriend experience, and she wanted to see Widow. 

She didn‘t even bother changing out of her clingy evening dress, only kicked off her heels and hastily gulped down a glass off water before she snuck back out. The corridor leading up to her room was almost dark, illuminated only by a series of dimmed small ceiling lights, and empty. 

Normally, Sombra would have checked all of the building‘s security feeds for anyone approaching her position before she even went out the door. Now she just started walking down the corridor, barefoot, a little dizzy from too much champagne and maybe from the memory of Widow in her backless black gown with the slit up to her thigh and the tiny crystals scattered over the folds of her skirt that made it look like a night sky. She‘d put her hair up, and she‘d been wearing dark lipstick. Lipstick that Sombra had wanted to kiss off of her all evening. 

It was all she could think about. She hoped that she remembered Widow‘s room number right. She felt like she was going to die if she didn‘t get to feel the chill of her blue skin under hands soon. 

Her eyes didn‘t register the person rounding the corner in front of her until it was already too late. Sombra walked straight into them, and the momentum combined with the fact that she‘d already been unsteady knocked her right off her feet. 

The carpet was soft enough for the impact not to hurt too much. Her fingers dug slightly into the plush fabric as she tried to push herself up, only to fall back down with a groan, head spinning.

„_¡Joder_, watch where you walk, you...!“ 

Her sentence broke off as her eyes regained some focus and she suddenly realized who she‘d literally run into. 

Moira O‘Deorain was looking down at her with an expression somewhere between disgust and amusement, arms crossed and clearly not intending to help her up. Not that Sombra would have taken her up on it. She‘d rather not have touch one of those sickly pale hands with the creepy long nails. 

(At least her own were only hard light.)

„Out so late all by yourself, agent?“ 

Sombra hated being called „agent.“ She grit her teeth and slowly began another attempt at sitting up. 

„I could ask you the same thing, doctor.“ 

She managed to maneuver herself into a sitting position, though it made the pounding in her head that much worse. Moira looked her up and down with enough condescendence to make Sombra wish she‘d brought her uzi along in order to wipe that look off the doctor‘s face. 

„You look like you should be passed out in your room right now.“ 

„And look where I am instead.“ 

Bracing one hand on the wall next to her, she started to get up. It took her a few tries, but eventually she was standing on her two feet again, although very shakily. 

„Where were you going?“, Moira demanded. 

Sombra narrowed her eyes. „None of your damn business.“ 

„Now, now, no need to get aggressive. I was making a simple inquiry.“ 

„An inquiry I don‘t have to answer.“ 

Sombra tried to push past Moira, but she refused to let her through. 

„Should I remind you that I am a Coucil member and you are not?“ 

„If you had read my contract,“ Sombra hissed, „you would know that I don‘t have to answer to anyone on the Council except for Doomfist.“ 

„And who do you suppose will learn of this encounter first thing in the morning tomorrow?“ Moira almost sounded bored as she inspected her nails. 

Sombra hesitated for a moment, trying to discern whether Moira was serious. Her vision was a little blurred, but she didn‘t need to see every detail of Moira‘s expression to know that she wasn‘t bluffing. She rarely did. It was one of her more despicable traits. 

With a heavy sigh, Sombra leaned against the wall, wracking her tired out, intoxicated brain for a good excuse. 

„Why do you even care so much?“ 

Moira took her time answering. 

„You know that none of us buy that you give a single damn about Talon, don‘t you?“ 

Sombra‘s blood froze, but all that made its way onto her face was a disarming smirk. 

„Well, neither do you, assuming I haven‘t gone blind recently.“ 

Moira ignored her. 

„You‘re highly valuable to us, that‘s why we‘ve let you get away with your little extracurricular projects so far. But don‘t be fooled. There is a line to it, and when you cross it, things won‘t be pretty for you.“ 

Suddenly, Sombra didn‘t feel drunk at all anymore. She swallowed hard, holding Moira‘s gaze as she spoke.

„You can imagine that our valued leader, Doomfist, is rather interested in what you get up to outside of missions. You are so dreadfully good at covering your tracks, it‘s rather fortunate you happened to run into me tonight.“ Moira crossed her arms. „Where were you going?“ 

„Out.“ 

Moira gave her a glance that said _Do you really want to do this right now?_

Doing her best to downplay the fact that her heart was racing in her chest, Sombra let out a short laugh. 

„What do you expect me to tell you, Dr. O‘Deorain? You just said yourself you know full well that I have my own... let‘s call them interests. And mine don‘t happen to confine me to a lab twenty-four-seven like yours do.“ 

„What were you planning on doing?“ Moira‘s voice sounded sharper now, blue and red eyes narrowed. 

„Nothing that concerns you.“ 

They stared at each other for several more moments, Sombra mentally counting down the seconds, doing her very best not to break Moira‘s gaze. She might have been drunk, but she knew that if she looked away now, she would admit defeat. And admitting defeat would be fatal. 

„Is that what you want me to tell Doomfist?“ Moira didn‘t blink as she said it.

„I don‘t give a single damn what you tell Doomfist.“ Sombra made sure to enunciate each word very carefully. „He‘s smart, you know. He doesn‘t need you to sniff around and spy on his wild cards for him. And me, I‘m smart too, doctor. Why do you think I‘m still here?“ 

She pushed away from the wall. She felt a lot steadier on her feet now than she had a few minutes ago. 

„If I was a threat to your precious little circle of mustache twirling villains, I would already be dead. Don‘t insult both me and Doomfist by assuming otherwise.“ 

This time when she walked past Moira, the geneticist didn‘t stop her. 

„_Buneas noches_, doctor.“ 

Sombra‘s heart was still pounding like she‘d just run a marathon even when she was already far around the next corner. Moira wasn‘t coming after her, but she still felt followed somehow. Unsafe. There was nothing warm and fuzzy about the lingering haze of alcohol now. It just made her feel worse. 

For a second, she considered going back to her room, but she still wanted to see Widow. Maybe even more so now than before. 

She didn‘t turn back.

A few minutes later, she knocked on a door that was identical to her own except for the number on it. Widowmaker opened it and wordlessly stepped aside to let Sombra in when she saw her. She had already changed out of her gown and was wearing a fuzzy white bathrobe, her hair down, but she hadn‘t taken off her makeup yet. She looked like she‘d been about to take a shower when Sombra had knocked. 

„What happened?“, she asked as soon as the door was closed. 

Sombra let herself plop down heavily onto the edge of the bed. „I had a run-in with Moira on the way here. She wanted to know what I was doing out.“

Widow sat next to her. „What did you tell her?“

Sombra repeated the gist of the conversation from earlier. When she finished, she didn‘t feel relieved at all. She felt like a giant weight had just settled on her chest.

She let her head drop forward and buried her face in her hands. 

„What if I ruined everything, _araña?_“ 

A cold arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closer to Widow. „You didn‘t ruin anything. She‘s going to tell Akande, expecting him to take some sort of radical action against you. But he won‘t do anything.“

Sombra looked up at her. „How do you know?“

Widow smiled a little. „You were right, you know. He is smart. And he likes a little bit of ambition in his people. In fact, I think he would be more suspicious if you‘d given Moira an airtight explanation.“ Her tone changed to chiding. „But why were you coming here anyway? I thought we had an agreement, _chérie._“ 

Sombra managed a wry grin. „I‘m drunk and I wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend, is that too much to ask?“ 

„You are impossible.“ 

Sombra leaned in and kissed her. Widow kissed her back with that mind-numbing deliberate slowness and passion that was unique to her, and it didn‘t fail its purpose. A moan slipped out from Sombra‘s throat, mostly swallowed up by the kiss, and she went to bury her hands in Widow‘s impossibly long, impossibly soft hair. Widow chuckled against her mouth. 

„Always so impatient“, she teased between kisses. 

„Want me to go back to my room?“, Sombra murmured.

„No.“ Widow let go of her, stood up and held a hand out. „Would you care to join me in the shower, since you interrupted me earlier?“

Sombra took the offered hand. „How could I say no to that?“ 

An hour later, they were cuddled up to each other under sheets, Widow‘s cold nose pressing against the back of Sombra‘s neck. Sombra‘s eyes felt terribly heavy, the combination of the adrenaline from the mission, the alcohol, the fear of almost getting caught - again - and Widow‘s unique approach to making her feel better finally taking its toll on her her. 

Just before she drifted off, she heard Widow mumble something. 

„What was that?“, she asked, the words broken up by a yawn. 

„I love you“, Widow repeated. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, not to mention that she almost never said the words in the first place, and least of all before Sombra did. 

Usually Sombra would have wanted to know why, but right now, she couldn‘t have cared less.

„I love you too.“ 

Weeks later, long after their return to the headquarters, a scream startled Sombra awake. She scrambled to sit up, heart pounding in her chest, as her eyes struggled to focus on anything in the dark. It took her several moments until she caught sight of Widow, curled up on the other side of the bed, her whole body shaking. Sombra could hear her sobbing quietly. 

With a sigh, Sombra laid back down, pressing herself up against Widow‘s back and wrapping her arms around her. 

„Shh, it‘s okay“, she murmured, „it was just a dream, _mi cielo._ You‘re safe. You‘re okay.“ 

Widow didn‘t reply, but one of her hands came up to clutch Sombra‘s, holding onto it like it was the only thing holding her together. Maybe it was. 

She didn‘t know how long it took Widow to calm down, but eventually, her sobs lost volume, and her shaking stopped. At some point she turned around in Sombra‘s arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and then another to her forehead, to the corner of her mouth. 

„_Merci._“ Her voice was quiet and sounded rough from crying. Sombra stroked her sweat damp hair back. 

„Do you want to go back to sleep?“

Widow shook her head almost violently. Sombra untangled herself from her arms and sat up in bed, stretching a little and letting out a yawn. 

„Let‘s go make some tea then.“ 

They wandered down to the kitchen together, still in their pajamas. The lights in the hallways were on, as always, but they were deserted at this time - it was three in the morning, after all, and so they allowed themselves to keep holding hands until they reached the small common area, just this once. Widow was quiet, but then again she usually was. Sombra had witnessed her having these nightmares many times by now. She probably wouldn‘t sleep again tonight, but she‘d be fine. As fine as she could be. 

Widow retrieved their mutual favorite tea from the cupboard. It was stored in the highest one up for god knew what reason, which was the source of Sombra‘s endless frustration because she couldn‘t reach it by herself. Tonight, she was content to save any quips she might have made about how she compensated for her height with more brains. She wrapped her arms around Widow‘s middle and let her head rest against her shoulder from behind as the sniper started boiling water. When she took a step to the side to grab two cups, Sombra took a step with her, and then a step back when Widow did, without lifting her face off her shoulder. 

„What are you doing?“, Widow murmured, pouring the water. 

„It‘s called a hug.“ 

„You‘re clinging to me like a koala bear“, she accused Sombra, but her voice was soft. Sombra could almost hear a smile in it. 

„I‘ll show you koala bear, you rude... arachnoid.“ 

Sombra turned them around so she was facing Widow, then threw her arms around her neck and, without warning, hopped up to wrap her legs around Widow‘s waist. Widow let out a surprised noise, but she didn‘t stumble, instinctually grabbing Sombra‘s thighs to hold her up. Sombra pressed her nose into Widow‘s neck. 

„Happy now?“ It came out barely intelligible. She felt Widow kiss the base of her neck while she slowly turned with shaky steps and set Sombra down on the countertop, their tea forgotten. Her arms rose up to encircle Sombra‘s waist. 

For several moments, they remained like that, pressed against each other, breathing in each other‘s scent. Everything else seemed to fade away, blur into a seamless nothing in the background, and noting remained except for Widow‘s hair between Sombra‘s fingers and her cold lips pressed against her collarbone. She still smelled like lavender. She always did. 

Sombra drew back slightly to kiss her temple. „I love you.“ 

„_Je t‘adore_“, Widow whispered back. It was what she often preferred to say, it felt more honest to her. It did nothing to shorten the meaning behind the words. Sombra rarely ever heard so much emotion in Widow‘s voice. 

She kissed her on the mouth this time, briefly, but lingering.

„You feel any better yet?“ 

Widow didn‘t respond. Instead, she kissed her again, deeper this time, fingers curled into the back of Sombra‘s shirt. Sombra sighed softly and allowed herself to close her eyes. 

The door creaked behind them. 

The blood in Sombra‘s veins froze. 

She pushed away from Widow, raised her head, and found herself face to face with the last person she wanted to see right now. 

Akande Ogundimu was standing in the kitchen, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. The expression on his face was unreadable. 

Sombra‘s thoughts felt sluggish, even as she feverishly tried to come up with a way out. Her heart was pounding, hands shaking as she pushed herself off the counter and instinctively moved in front of Widow, who had gone very still, yellow eyes wide and trained squarely on Akande. She would‘ve looked impassive to any onlooker, but Sombra knew panic in her when she saw it. 

„This- this doesn‘t have to become anything, Ogundimu.“ The trembling in her voice negated the threatening undertone she‘d hoped to give it. „We can all just forget this ever happened. I- I know things about you. Things you wouldn‘t want to get out.“

She tried to force her usual cocky grin, but she failed miserably. „Keeping it a secret from Reyes that you put out the hit on Ana Amari is more than worth it to keep your mouth shut about this, don‘t you think?“ 

Akande still didn‘t reply, just kept looking at her, his brow furrowed. Sombra felt herself starting to panic. He had to take the bait. She didn‘t know what else to do. Without any of her tech, he could crush her into a pulp right here. 

„I‘m serious, you know,“ she continued. „I‘ve ruined people more powerful than you. And... and if you kill me, all of my data goes public. All of your and Talon‘s dirty little secrets. Out there for everyone to see. Do you want that?“

She was painfully aware of how high-pitched and feeble her voice sounded. Her fear was probably clear to see all over her face. 

For several more seconds, she tried to hold Akade‘s gaze, show no more weakness than she already had, dread digging into her stomach with icy claws. 

Then he finally spoke. 

„Sombra, what are you talking about?“ 

She stared at him in pure confusion, unable to reply. 

„Why are you trying to blackmail me? What did you think I was going to do?“ 

„I...“ She stopped herself, tried to start anew, then stopped again. She was at a loss for words.

„Kill me?“, she got out finally. „Recondition Widow? Because, I‘m, I don‘t know - compromising your asset or something?“

„I think you and I have different ideas of what „compromising“ means.“ 

Sombra took her time to reply. „Are you saying you‘re not going to punish us?“

„What would I need to punish you for?“ He sounded genuinely perplexed.

„You... you are aware that Widow isn‘t supposed to have any feelings, right?“ 

He made a dismissive gesture. „I wasn‘t involved in PROJECT:WIDOWMAKER. I never approved of some of the methods used in the course of it. In fact, I think it goes against Talon‘s very nature. We‘re about inciting struggle for the bettering of all humanity. How is Widowmaker supposed to struggle when she can‘t feel or think for herself?“

Sombra only half registered his words, and Widow didn‘t seem to care that he was talking about her like she wasn‘t even there. They looked at each other, eyes wide. Sombra didn‘t need to ask to know Widow was thinking the same thing she was.

_It can‘t be that easy._

After all these months of hiding, being forced to pretend they were just colleagues, the constant fear of being caught and the horrible consequences that would follow, this was supposed be it? Doomfist not even _caring?_

„What‘s the catch?“ Sombra noted, with some relief, that were voice sounded more stable now. 

„There is no catch.“ He almost sounded irritated now. „It seems you two have completely misinterpreted my goals with this organization so far. I‘ll have to rectify that at some point. But it is three in the morning, so if you could just let me get a glass of water and get back to bed right now, I would appreciate that very much.“

Sombra watched with narrowed eyes as he really did take a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water from the faucet and started on his way back out. Just before he was out the door, he turned around one more time.

„Sombra, I really don‘t care what you or anyone else here gets up to in their free time. That includes Widowmaker. When it affects your work or goes against what we‘re trying to accomplish is when I will take issue with it. You‘re smart. Too smart, I hope, to let it come to that.“ 

Then he was gone. 

For a minute, Sombra and Widowmaker were silent. Sombra hadn‘t even noticed she‘d been holding her breath until now, and she was forced to suck in several deep gulps of air, like she‘d been drowning and just broke through the surface of the water. A none too small part of her was convinced that this was all an enormously strange dream, but Widow‘s hand grasping hers with shaking fingers felt very real. 

„We don‘t have to hide anymore.“ She said it in her usual flat, soft voice, but Sombra could tell she was as shocked as she was. She saw it in the ever-so-slight crease between her brows, the quirk of her mouth when she spoke. 

Sombra let out a sigh that felt like it came from the deepest depths of her soul. She took a step forward into Widow‘s arms and let her forehead rest against her sternum.

„I can‘t believe this“, she murmured. 

„I can.“ Widow‘s hands threaded through her hair. „It makes sense in retrospect. The key difference between him and Vialli is that Akande understands that his subordinates are people. Even me. That‘s what makes him dangerous. It‘s also what makes him easier to live with. Most of the time at least.“

„So you really think he won‘t punish us?“

„No. In fact, he might think it will... boost our morale.“

Sombra snorted. „You boost my morale alright, _hermosa._“ 

„If I had a morale to boost, I‘m sure you would be doing the same for me.“ Widow drew idle patterns on her back with her fingertips. „_Ma belle._“ 

„I love you so much.“ 

Sombra paused. 

„I‘m so glad I get to kiss you in public now.“ 

„Me too.“ 

Widow was silent for another moment. Then she added:

„Can we please drink our tea now?“

**Author's Note:**

> translations:
> 
> petite ombre - little shadow
> 
> joder - fuck
> 
> buenas noches - good night
> 
> mi cielo - my sky/heaven
> 
> je t'adore - i adore you
> 
> hermosa - beautiful
> 
> ma belle - beautiful


End file.
